Created
April 10, 2025 14:17
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basic-dfirence
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A free bird leaps | |
on the back of the wind | |
and floats downstream | |
till the current ends | |
and dips his wing | |
in the orange sun rays | |
and dares to claim the sky. | |
But a bird that stalks | |
down his narrow cage | |
can seldom see through | |
his bars of rage | |
his wings are clipped and | |
his feet are tied | |
so he opens his throat to sing. | |
The caged bird sings | |
with a fearful trill | |
of things unknown | |
but longed for still | |
and his tune is heard | |
on the distant hill | |
for the caged bird | |
sings of freedom. | |
The free bird thinks of another breeze | |
and the trade winds soft through the sighing trees | |
and the fat worms waiting on a dawn bright lawn | |
and he names the sky his own. | |
But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams | |
his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream | |
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied | |
so he opens his throat to sing. | |
The caged bird sings | |
with a fearful trill | |
of things unknown | |
but longed for still | |
and his tune is heard | |
on the distant hill | |
for the caged bird | |
sings of freedom. |
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